


from a distance

by DoctorFitzy (KittooningMalijah)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No SHIELD (Marvel), Bisexual Leo Fitz, Gyms, M/M, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 04:38:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19243999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittooningMalijah/pseuds/DoctorFitzy
Summary: “Fitz, you’re staring.”“I’m not staring.”“You’re staring. It’s creepy.”“I’mgazing. Some people call it romantic.”





	from a distance

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: “i came to the gym to work out but holy god i can’t stop watching you do one armed push ups that’s so hot” + FitzWard
> 
> it has taken me so long to cross post this fic somehow??? but yeah this is literally years old as evidenced by the fact that I used "Skye" and not "Daisy" for this

“Fitz, you’re staring.”  


“I’m not staring.”  


“You’re staring. It’s creepy.”  


“I’m _gazing_. Some people call it romantic.”  


Skye rolled her eyes at her friend and shook her head, pressing the button that would make her treadmill stop so that she could step off and properly continue the conversation. They’d been there for an hour so that she could convince him to actually get some exercise – she still didn’t know how he stayed so _tiny_ with how much he snacked on a daily basis – and all he’d done was stare at some other gym patron across the room. “It’s not romantic if you’re _stalking_ him.”

“I’m not _stalking_ him. I’m… _observing_  from a safe distance.” He shook his head and looked over at her for a few seconds before directing his gaze back over to the other side of the gym. “It’s not like I can just go over and talk to him.”

“Why not?”  


This time, when he looked at her, Fitz’s eyes were wide with something like disbelief. “Why not? _Why not_? Because I don’t feel like embarrassing myself and combusting, that’s why.” Her laughter only made his cheeks flush a bright shade of red. “I think you’re only proving my point, actually.”

“C’mon, Fitz. Just _walk over_ and say hello.”

He didn’t have time to argue before she grabbed him by the shoulders to try to steer him in the right direction – or the very _wrong_ direction, if he was the one labeling it – and he immediately dug his heels into the floor to keep from moving more than a few inches. “Or, you know, I could _keep_ observing from a safe distance.”

“ _Fitz_.”  


“Skye, regardless of social constructs, I’m perfectly happy being, as you call it, a stalker.”  


* * *

“Fitz, this is the third Saturday in a row you’ve come to the gym with me.”

“Yeah, and?”  


“You haven’t worked out _at all_.”  


“Well, I’ve been a bit distracted.”  


Skye followed his gaze for the third time in the last twenty minutes and shook her head. “Right, stalking Mr. One-Armed-Push-Ups.”

“Exactly.”  


She rolled her eyes and used her arm to wipe some of the sweat off of her forehead. “You know, you _could_ just go talk to him. Maybe you’ll hit it off. Maybe he likes coffee.”

“ _I_ don’t like coffee.”  


“Jesus Christ, Fitz!”

* * *

“You can do this.” Fitz mumbled to himself, taking slow steps across the room and carefully avoiding the other people around him. He had one goal, and that one goal was one syllable, and that seemed impossible if he couldn’t even get over to the person he was trying to talk to. It had been two months – every single Saturday, he’d tag along with Skye to the gym and _observe from a safe distance_ while one of the other gym patrons did one armed push ups for about twenty minutes before moving on to some other part of the gym that was harder to see from the treadmills – and _this time_ he was going to talk to him.

Or, he was planning to, until he ran straight into someone’s chest. Someone’s very _fit_ and _firm_ and _muscular_ chest. “Oh, sorry, are you okay?”

The voice wasn’t familiar, but when he looked up, Fitz found that he was looking directly into the eyes of Mr. One-Armed-Push-Ups. “I… uh… erm…”

“I didn’t run into that hard, did I? No brain damage?”  


He tried to shake his head, but he was too busy still stumbling over his words. “No! I… Well, I just… Do you like coffee?”

The silence that followed was short lived, if only because Fitz could hear his blood pumping in his ears. _He_ didn’t like coffee, but at least the coffee shop down the street had tea, too – if this turned into anything, which it almost definitely would not. _Or_ …

“Yeah, I like coffee.”


End file.
